


Rhythm of Love

by KnownAsEmrys



Series: acoyotesmate [22]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Drummer Stiles Stilinski, F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Isaac And Malia Did Not Have Happy Childhoods, Uh kinda Enemies to friends to lovers ig
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-06 02:58:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16380128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KnownAsEmrys/pseuds/KnownAsEmrys
Summary: Based on the prompt: "Stiles and Malia as neighbors, and stiles never letting her sleep because he always plays drums at 3am"





	Rhythm of Love

**Author's Note:**

> Shoutout to my lovely [beta](https://still-potassium-sulfate.tumblr.com) for being so wonderful!
> 
> Anyways, uh....I got a little carried away with this one...Enjoy!

Malia jolts awake so hard she falls out of her chair and lands with a loud thud on her apartment floor. She groans and rolls onto her side, clutching her head where it hit the ground. 

She hears drumming coming from the other side of her bedroom wall and fills with rage. 

Three weeks. 

 _Three weeks_ Malia has been putting up with her asshole of a neighbor banging on his drums at all hours of the night, but not anymore. 

Malia jumps to her feet, ignoring her pain in favor of storming out of her apartment and to Stiles' front door. She starts beating on it relentlessly.

"Stiles!" She yells .

It takes him about twenty seconds to stop drumming, and then another ten to answer the door. 

"What did I say about the drumming?" 

"I told you, this is the only time I have to practice!" Stiles tells her. 

"And I told _you_ this is the only time I have to sleep!" 

"Can't you wear earplugs or something?" He asks at the same time she asks, "Can't you practice somewhere else?"

"No!" They both exclaim at the same time because they've had this same argument almost everyday since he moved in. 

Malia glares and he stares back, unfazed. Yet again, they're at an impasse. 

After what feels like an eternity, Stiles relents. "I'm done for tonight anyway," he says.

Malia doesn't get a chance to respond because he shuts the door in her face. 

_Asshole._

 

* * *

 

The next night, Malia wakes up slowly this time, but it's to the same racket as the night before. She growls and jumps up, barging through her apartment and right to Stiles' front door where she finds earplugs and a note taped to the door.

_Hope these help. Sweet dreams :)_

_XOXO Stiles_

Malia tears the note, and the earplugs, off the door, crumpling them both in her hand.

_I'm actually going to kill him._

She kicks his door, but the urge to hit something doesn't go away even after she's back in her room. So, she calls Isaac, relieved when he agrees to meet her at the gym for a late night work out session. 

 

* * *

 

"If he wakes me up with his noise _one_ more time, I'm going to punch him in his stupid face," Malia growls. She packs all her anger into her right fist and hits the punching bag so hard it wobbles, the chain holding it up rattling dangerously. 

"I'm glad you didn't want to spar," Isaac mutters, then louder he asks, "Why don't you just file a noise complaint?"

"I have, but apparently the building manager went to high school with his dad, and she told me to just wear earplugs," Malia explains, giving the bag a swift kick as she pictures the building manager's condescending smile.

"What about the cops?" Isaac suggests, jabbing at his own punching bag. 

"I don't want to be _that_  neighbor," Malia answers. 

"Well he isn't giving you much of a choice at this point," Isaac says. "I mean if he's going to be a dick about it, you might as well be one too."

 

* * *

 

Two nights later, Malia finally calls the cops. 

She waits in her living room until she hears someone beating on Stiles' door. The drumming doesn't stop until she hears someone yell, "Sheriff's department, open up!"

Malia jumps up and rushes over to her door, wanting to listen in. 

Her heart sinks when Stiles finally opens the door and she hears, "Parrish?"

"Stiles?" 

_Oh, come on!_

Malia rests her head against the door, accepting defeat. She listens to them chat like old friends. Eventually Parrish says, "I won't tell the Sheriff this time, but try to keep it down all right?"

_Who is this asshole?_

"All right," Stiles promises. 

The thudding of Parrish's boots signal his departure. A few seconds later, there's a knock on her door. She doesn't answer. 

"Calling the cops? _Really_?" Stiles calls through the door. 

Malia stays quiet. She waits for him to go back to his own apartment before she moves. He doesn't play for the rest of the night, and she gets more sleep than she has since he moved in. 

 

* * *

 

Of course, the next night he's back at it, they argue, he keeps playing, she doesn't get any sleep. Rinse and repeat the next night and the next and so on. Sometimes Stiles stops after they get into it, but most of the time he doesn't. Malia refuses to wear the earplugs and barely gets any sleep. 

Despite her efforts, this rhythm continues even after classes have begun with no end in sight.

Until one day, Malia snaps. 

 

* * *

 

She's in class, barely managing to keep her eyes open, but inevitably she falls asleep. Unfortunately, she was doing a lab. One that involved fire. 

She wakes up moments after being doused with a fire extinguisher, falling off her stool onto the floor. Concerned classmates and the professor - who's holding the fire extinguisher - crowd around where she's sprawled out on her back.

"Are you all right, Miss?" The professor asks. 

Malia sits up with a groan. "I'm fine," she answers. 

Malia gets dismissed after a short lecture about getting enough sleep, and a quick inspection of the damage done to her, the awful smell of burning hair telling her all she really needs to know. She goes home, but makes a quick stop before going to clean up. 

She bangs on Stiles door until he opens it, looking as if he was about to leave. Malia almost punches him in his stupid face, but she can hear Isaac's voice in her head telling her not to. 

"What happened to you?" He questions in lieu of a greeting. 

" _You_!" She yells. " _You_ happened to me! I used to sleep like a baby, but now I'm lucky if I can sleep _five_  fucking minutes through your racket!"

"Malia - "

"Because of _you_ I fell asleep in class and caught my hair on fire! So thanks for that, dickhead!" She shouts. 

Movement catches her eye and she sees a man around their age coming towards the door. 

"Your friend is an obnoxious asshole!" Malia tells him before stomping away towards her own apartment, ignoring Stiles calling after her. 

She slams her door shut, locking it behind her in case he gets the insane idea to come in after her. She texts Isaac to come over and then hops in the shower to wash off the mess left behind by the fire extinguisher. 

 

* * *

 

"I'll help you hide the body," Isaac tells her as he cuts her hair. "Or you know, murder him myself if you can't do it."

Malia chuckles weakly. She's tired and upset and just wants the day to end, but at least she has Isaac. 

"You can come stay at my place for a while if you want," Isaac offers. 

"Thanks, but if I do that, I'll still have to deal with him when I come back," Malia says. "I think I'd rather just call it quits and use those damn earplugs."

"If you're sure..."

"I am," she assures him. 

He stops cutting and runs his fingers through her hair. "All done," he declares a moment later. 

Malia stands up and walks over to the mirror to inspect her new hairstyle. Her once long brown hair now hovers over her shoulders. 

"You still look good," Isaac tells her. 

Malia rolls her eyes at him. "You're my best friend, you have to say that."

"No, as your best friend I have to tell you the truth and call you out as the ugly trash goblin you are, but as an objective observer I have to lie to you and say you look cute," Isaac corrects.

Malia laughs, and it feels good, erases some of her frustration. 

Isaac grins. "Why don't you clean this up and I'll order pizza?" 

Malia nods and he leaves her to it. She cleans up the hair, takes another brief shower and gets changed. She makes her way to the living room. 

"How long until - " She cuts off when she sees Stiles and his friend sitting on her couch next to Isaac. 

Stiles gets up. "Hey, can we talk?" 

Malia really really doesn't want to, feels the urge to lash out, but then her eyes slide over to Isaac who nods slightly, encouragingly, and she focuses on how tired she is instead. It drowns out the anger enough for her to say, "Okay."

She turns and heads towards the kitchen, knowing he'll follow. She rounds on him as soon as she reaches the fridge and he flinches as he comes to an abrupt halt. 

"Well?" She demands.

"I'm sorry," Stiles starts. "I didn't think my drumming was affecting you so much. I would've stopped if I'd known it - "

"I've been telling you for seven weeks!" Malia exclaims, anger bubbling up in her chest. "What part of 'I _can't sleep with all that racket'_ didn't you understand?"

Stiles flinches and sputters as she takes a step into his space. "I - uh - I - I'm going to stop."

Malia glares at him. 

"I swear, I'll stop," He says. "I feel really bad about what happened to your hair and I don't want to make something worse happen."

Malia searches his face, then nods after moment, taking a step back when she decides he's being genuine. "Good," she says. 

Stiles is visibly relieved, seeming to relax now that he has his personal space back. "So are we good?" He questions. 

"Not even close," Malia says,"but if you stick to your promise maybe one day I won't want to punch you in the face."

Stiles eyes her warily. 

"I'm still upset," Malia tells him. "You should probably leave."

"Right," Stiles agrees. He turns and heads back to the living. 

Malia follows after him. He stops abruptly and she runs smack into him. She frowns and pushes him out of her way. 

"What is - " 

And then she sees Isaac and Stiles' friend making heart eyes at each other, just before they snap out of it to look at her. 

"Uh, Scott, we should go," Stiles says with a wary glance at Malia.

Scott nods. He turns briefly to Isaac, says something only he can hear and then gets up. He walks over to Malia, introduces himself, then lets Stiles drag him out of the apartment. 

Malia crosses her arm, and gives Isaac a look. 

" _What_?" He questions.

Malia continues giving him the look until he says, "Just because his friend is an asshole that doesn't mean he is."

"But if you two hit it off, I'll have to see Stiles more," She points out. 

"Maybe, but I mean he didn't even give me his number so he's probably not interested," Isaac reasons. "I mean we barely talked so I don't think you'll have to worry about that.

"Then what did he whisper to you?" Malia questions, raising her brow. 

"He just said it was very nice to meet me," Isaac says with a shrug. 

"Oh, is that all?" Malia asks skeptically. 

"That's all," Isaac says firmly. 

"You guys talked for like two minutes and were already mooning over each other," Malia says. "How?"

"Well, for starters they had been here for ten minutes before you walked in, and then after convincing shithead that you were a kickboxing champ he didn't want to talk to me anymore, so Scott did," Isaac explains. 

Malia chuckles. "You convinced him I was a kickboxing champion?"

Isaac shrugs. "I thought instilling the fear that you could kick his ass would come in handy."

Malia cracks up at that, especially when she thinks of how nervous he seemed to be of her. "God, I love you," she says through her laughter. 

Isaac smiles. "Love you too."

There's a knock on the door, and Malia answers it, glad to see the pizza delivery boy. "Just let me get my wallet," she tells him. 

"Oh, no need ma'am, it's already been paid for," he says. 

Malia furrows her brow. "By who?"

"I didn't catch his name, but he wrote on the box." He tells her, handing over the pizza. 

Malia sees a number and the words  _Call me sometime ~ Scott._

The delivery boy leaves and she shuts her door. 

"Make sure you thank him for the pizza," Malia says when she drops the box on Isaac's lap. She wants to roll her eyes at Isaac's excited grin because of the potential of more Stiles in her life, but she can't. She likes seeing him happy. 

"I promise I'll never make you hang out with Stiles alone," he tells her. 

She snorts. 

_What a weird day this has been._

 

* * *

 

Stiles keeps his promise. Malia doesn't know when he practices, never hears him anymore, and that fact alone makes her feel better about Scott and Isaac's developing relationship. 

So when a few weeks after the fire incident Isaac begs her to come watch Scott's band play, she agrees. 

"I can finally see what was more important than my sleep," Malia says as she takes a seat at the dive bar the band, The Pack, is playing at.

Isaac chuckles as he sits across from her. "And your hair."

She shoots him a look and he gives her a shit-eating grin. She likes her hair, even if the way she got it was shitty. 

"So, what kind of music do they play?" Malia asks. 

"I don't know."

"What does Scott play?"

"I don't know."

Malia narrows her eyes. "How many people are in the band?"

"I don't know," Isaac admits.

"What _do_ you know?" Malia questions. 

"That they're playing tonight?" Isaac offers. 

Malia snorts. 

"We haven't talked about it much," Isaac explains. "All I know is that they all went to high school together and they're not trying to become famous or anything **.** They just like to play together."

Malia shakes her head. 

"Look, I was just excited that Scott invited me, okay? I didn't think to ask him for details," Isaac says. 

"What a sap," Malia teases. 

"Shut up," Isaac says. "Just because you don't have a romantic bone in your body doesn't mean I'm a sap in comparison." 

Malia turns her head suddenly. "Oh, hi, Scott!"

She watches as Isaac visibly perks up, sitting up straight with a love sick smile already on his face. He deflates when he realizes Scott is nowhere in sight. 

Isaac huffs. "When even was the last time you had a _romantic bone_   _IN_  your body?"

"One, please never say that again," Malia says,"and two, that's none of your business." 

"I'm just saying, maybe if you were getting laid you wouldn't be so stressed all the time," Isaac tells her. 

Malia huffs, but doesn't respond because _maybe_ he has a point, though he doesn't need to know that or that she hasn't slept with anybody in seven months. 

She looks around and this time she actually does see Scott walking up to them, a warm smile already on his face. She watches it grow even bigger as he slides in next to Isaac. 

_Its only been a month and they're already gross._

"I'm glad you guys could make it," Scott says. 

Malia opens her mouth to respond, but Isaac kicks her under the table. He’s known her too long, knew she was going to make a comment about Stiles' drumming. For his sake, she says, "Us too. Isaac's been raving about having a musician for a boyfriend."

Except that seems to be a mistake because they both turn red and look kind of awkwardly around at everything but each other. 

_Oops._

"Uh, so, when do you go on?" Malia questions, hoping to diffuse the tension.

"Uh, in about five minutes," Scott answers. "I just wanted to come say hi."

"Are you nervous?" Isaac asks, daring to look at him again. 

Scott shrugs. "A little," he says,"but I'm getting used to it."

"Well I think you're going to do great," Isaac tells him. 

Scott beams at him. "Thanks. I appreciate the support."

"Scott!" 

They all turn to look at Stiles who's jogging towards them. 

"What's up?" Scott asks. 

"Kira can't find her picks," Stiles answers as he reaches them. He eyes Malia warily, before turning to face Scott. "Have you seen them?"

"No, but I'll help you look," Scott says. 

Stiles nods and backs up so Scott can slide out of the booth. Isaac catches his arm as Scott starts to leave. 

Scott looks at him curiously. 

"Kiss for good luck?" Isaac suggests. 

Scott grins, nodding once before Isaac kisses him. 

_God it's going to be sickeningly sweet watching them fall in love. I think I'm going to vomit._

Scott and Stiles rush off after that, leaving the two of them to wait. Malia takes the opportunity to tease Isaac about how smitten he already is and she feels very fulfilled when he calls her a cold-hearted old hag. 

A few minutes go by and then they see Scott walk up to the mic, the rest of his band already on stage behind him. 

"So, uh **...** we're the Pack, and we're gonna play a couple songs for you guys," He announces.

Scott starts playing, setting a slow rhythm that the others start to imitate one by one, until Stiles gives one of his cymbals a hard hit. The music takes a dramatic turn just as Scott starts singing, fast paced and mostly coherent.

Besides Scott and Stiles, the band is made up of three other members, a girl with red hair who sings backup and screams, a girl with coal black hair who plays the bass, and a brunette who plays the keyboard.

"Thank God we don't have to lie about how great they are," Isaac tells her after a couple of songs. 

Malia chuckles. She has to admit, as much as the drumming had annoyed her, at least the practice had been worth it. 

* * *

 

"You guys were amazing!" Isaac exclaims as Scott and the rest of the band walk up to their booth. 

"Thanks!" Exclaims the bassist. 

"You must be Isaac," the screamo chick says, offering her hand out to him. "I'm Lydia. It's nice to finally meet the person Scott's been _swooning_ over."

Scott blushes, and steps in to give introductions to gloss over that statement. He makes sure to include Malia as he reveals the bassist is called Kira and the keyboard player is Allison. 

After polite greetings, they move to a bigger booth, Isaac and Malia ending up squashed together in the middle.

"So, Malia," Lydia, who has chosen to sit right next to her, starts,"got any embarrassing stories about Isaac?"

Malia smirks. " _Plenty_."

Isaac groans loudly. "Lia!"

_I'm really glad it's not me being judged tonight._

"So this one time we went to a frat party and - "

 

* * *

 

Malia gets roped into helping Stiles load up the instruments into an ugly tie dye van. Apparently it was his and Scott's turn, but Isaac looked so disappointed at saying goodbye to Scott that Malia had to step in. Being a good friend really sucked sometimes, especially when it involved heavy equipment and a weak partner to help put it all away. 

"What did you think of the show?" Stiles asks as he struggles to put in an amp. 

"You guys were actually pretty good," she admits, putting in the last of his drum set. "I was surprised considering how every time I heard you play it was just erractic noise."

Stiles glares. "You're not going to let that go, are you?"

"Nope!" She confirms with a fake smile that shows off all her teeth. Isaac once said it made her look like she was about to swallow someone whole. She hopes Stiles sees it that way too. 

"Even if I say I'm sorry a million times?" Stiles questions. 

She knows that she'll have to let it go eventually, especially with the way Scott and Isaac are progressing, but for now she says, "Try one million and one times and _maybe_ I'll forgive you for lighting me on fire."

"So, do I start now or...?"

Malia rolls her eyes, but a small smile does make it's way onto her face. "You know, there are other ways to apologize besides saying I'm sorry."

"Like?" Stiles questions, finally getting the amp loaded. 

"Well I gave you all plenty of reasons to love Isaac, but I could use a little more reassurance that Scott's not going to break his heart," Malia says. 

Stiles nods. "That's fair enough. After we finish, how about we go back inside? I'll buy us a round and convince you of what a great guy Scott is."

Malia thinks it over. "Deal," she says. 

 

* * *

 

Over the first round Stiles buys, they talk solely about Scott and how wonderful he is, over the second they devolve into some weird  _my best friend is better than yours_ competition, over a round of water and a small basket of pretzels they start talking about themselves.

"You're the _Sheriff's_ son?" Malia questions incredulously. 

Stiles nods. 

Malia, still pretty drunk, laughs hysterically. "God, I can't believe I called the cops on you. I thought it was a dick move, but _you_ were being a dick so I thought it was fair. Now I know it wouldn't have mattered anyway."

Stiles snorts. "Oh believe me, if my _dad_ had gotten that call, it would've worked."

"Maybe I should've tried again," Malia murmurs. 

"Well, I'm glad you didn't," Stiles tells her. 

"So where do you practice now?" Malia asks curiously. 

"At Parrish's place. He's been picking up the graveyard shift a lot lately so his place is free. I think he’d saving up for a place for him and Lydia so it doesn't matter if I drive his neighbors up the wall," Stiles says. 

"Parrish?" Malia questions, then it clicks, "That useless deputy?"

"Ha! I knew you were listening in on us!" Stiles exclaims. 

Malia rolls her eyes. "I was hoping he’d tell you off."

"Parrish always gives me one chance before he does anything," Stiles says. "And I learned the hard way he isn't kidding when he says that. He's put me a jail cell at least four times."

"Maybe he isn't useless after all."

Stiles chuckles. 

Malia chugs the last of her water and orders another one, taking a long sip once she has it. She needs to sober up a bit more before she can drive.

"What are you in school for?" Stiles asks, breaking the temporary quiet. 

"I'm studying to become a vet tech and Isaac's studying to be a vet," Malia says. "We want to open our own clinic someday."

Stiles eyebrows shoot up. 

"What?" Malia questions.

"It's just that Scott wants to be a vet too," Stiles says. 

"Really?" Malia questions. That hadn't come up in their _my best friend is better than yours_ competition. 

"Yeah," Stiles says, then, "You and Isaac are really close, huh? I mean to plan your futures together."

"We are," Malia agrees. "And if you're trying to suss out if that makes me a threat, I can assure it doesn't. We're all each other has had since we were little, and we don't want to lose each other."

Stiles nods. "I get that. Scott and I have been best friends since elementary and we're like brothers **.**  But I'm going off to Quantico next year and I'm **...** afraid we won't be as close anymore." 

She supposes its almost similar to her relationship with Isaac, but  _brother_  has never felt like an appropriate term for him. It's more complicated than that. 

Malia cocks her head to one side. "Quantico?"

"I want to be an FBI agent," Stiles informs her. "And I'll finally meet the requirements to apply after this school year."

"Oh," Malia says.

She must be looking at him strangely because really defensively he says, "What? You don't think I can do it?" 

"I don't really know you so I can't say," she points out. "I'm just surprised is all, I've never met anyone who's wanted to work for the FBI."

He deflates. "Oh, well, now you have."

Malia straightens in her seat. "Okay, so this might sound a little harsh, but isn't there like a _physical_ requirement to become an agent?"

"Yes, and _that_ I am actually worried about passing," Stiles admits. 

"If you're going next year, shouldn't you start getting ready now?" 

"Probably, but between classes, work and the band I don't really have any time," he says. 

"What about your days off?" Malia asks. 

"I use them to catch up on assignments or to sleep," Stiles says. 

"I think you'll have to give up the extra sleep if you're serious about being an agent," Malia tells him. 

Stiles sighs. "Yeah, I know, but it's just hard to get started."

Later, Malia will blame the alcohol when she says, "I can help you, if you want."

"You want to help me?" Stiles questions. 

Malia shrugs. "I go to the gym three times a week with Isaac. You should join us."

He looks baffled. "Are you just saying that cos you're drunk?"

"I'm not drunk," Malia protests. "I'm a little tipsy."

"Suuuure," Stiles says,"but you don't seem to like me, so why are you being nice?" 

"Think of it as an investment for the future," Malia starts,"If I help you become an FBI agent, then that means I get Scott and Isaac all to myself while you're gone."

Stiles thinks it over before he nods. "Yeah, all right. Let's do it."

Malia offers out her hand and they shake on it. 

"But you're not stealing Scott away from me," Stiles tells her.

"I don't know, it's a long way from California to Virgina, " Malia jokes.

They stay at the bar until they're sober enough to drive, and then they head their separate ways.

 

* * *

 

The next day, Malia wakes up to a text from an unknown number that reads,

| _See you, tonight._

 _~ Stiles_ |

Malia groans. 

_What have I gotten myself into._

 

* * *

 

Stiles is...he's all flailing limbs and no muscles whatsoever. 

"This is just sad," Isaac whispers to her as they watch Stiles hunched over the treadmill, panting obscenely, sweat glistening on his brow. 

"Very sad," Malia agrees. They'd only been at the gym twenty minutes and after eight of it was spent watching Stiles struggle to lift twenty-five pound weights, they'd suggested he work on cardio. It wasn't going much better. 

"I'm curious," Isaac says,"why did you agree to help him?

 "Too much to drink," Malia answers before giving the punching bag a few quick jabs. 

"You could've backed out though," Isaac points out. 

"I just said he could come to the gym with us, I didn't say I'd train him or anything," Malia says. 

"Well it made Scott happy when I told him," Isaac informs her. "Last night he was pretty worried Stiles would say something and you’d kickbox him to death. "

Malia laughs. "Does he still think I'm a kickboxing champ?"

Isaac grins. "Maybe."

Malia shakes her head. She looks steals a glance at Stiles, who looks like he's about to faceplant. 

"Want me to go?" Isaac asks. 

"I'll go," she sighs. She walks over to Stiles and pushes the stop button on the treadmill. 

"Hey!" Stiles exclaims, but he's panting too much to say anything else. He leans heavy on the treadmill as it comes to a stop. 

"You have to pace yourself," Malia tells him. 

Stiles nods, unable to speak as he's still desperately trying to catch his breath. 

"Come on," Malia says, grabbing his arm. He lets her drag him over to the punching bags and obeys when she tells him to sit on the mats and drink some water. 

"You all right?" Isaac asks him. 

Stiles gives him a thumbs up and then Malia and Isaac return to their own workout. A few minutes later, Malia notices the lack of panting coming from behind her and turns to check on Stiles. He’s just watching her.

"You good?" Malia questions. 

Stiles nods. 

"Good, now come with me," Malia says, offering her hand out to him. He takes it and she helps him to his feet. She leads him over to the treadmill again. "Just do fifteen minutes at the pace I set, then we'll go from there." 

Stiles nods and gets on the treadmill. 

"Thanks for doing this," Stiles says as she fiddles with the settings. 

"Yeah, well, watching you try to do it on your own was just sad," Malia tells him. 

Stiles chuckles. "I'm sure that's probably true. I think I made a granny feel good about herself."

She can't help the small smile at his response. "Just don't overdo it this time, okay?"

"I think I've learned my lesson," Stiles assures her. 

The rest of the session goes by much more smoothly, and even though Stiles is red and covered in sweat by the end, he's still intact and not seconds away from passing out. 

 

* * *

 

Scott, bless his heart, meets them at Malia's with burgers and milkshakes after their workout. Sure, it might make their workout not worth it, but they need to eat, especially Stiles who probably burned off more calories than anyone due to the unsupervised part of his workout. 

They all go inside and settle in the living room to watch some bad horror movie on Netflix while they eat their dinner. Soon, actually watching the movie turns into making fun of the characters and talking about all the ways someone could've prevent their death in a certain scenario through mouthfuls of food. 

After dinner, Scott and Isaac leave, but Stiles stays to watch another movie which they end up talking through. At first, it's still just about ways to survive the horror movie, but then it turns to talk about their favorite movies.

"You've never seen _Star Wars_?" Stiles questions. 

Malia shakes her head. 

"Has Isaac?" He asks. 

"Nope."

Stiles scoffs like it's the most ridiculous thing he's ever heard. "One day, I'm going to force you, Scott, and Isaac to watch it cos I mean it's just gonna get sadder the older we get."

Malia snorts. She doesn't see why it matters. 

"What else haven't you seen?" 

"Uh...Harry Potter?"

"Harry Pot - have you at least seen _Twilight_?"

Again, Malia shakes her head. 

Stiles looks deeply upset now. "You haven't even seen the bad movies of our generation? What kind of sad childhood did you have?"

_If only you knew._

"We just didn't get a chance to watch them when we were little," Malia tells him. 

"Well we have _got_ to fix that before I leave for Quantico," Stiles says. "I can't leave unless we do."

"Oh, then we _definitely_ have to," Malia agrees. 

Stiles pouts and she thinks it's kind of cute, but before that raises any red flags, Stiles says, "You know, you’re mean to me now, but you’re gonna miss me when I'm gone."

Malia snorts. "You wish."

"Just wait, I have plenty of time to grow on you," Stiles tells her. 

"I guess we'll see," She says. 

Stiles smiles. "I guess we will. So. What about TV shows?"

That line of questioning ends with them starting The Office and Malia reluctantly agreeing to watch Game of Thrones with him in their spare time. 

 

* * *

 

Malia stares at Stiles through half-lidded eyes. He’s fast asleep with his head on her shoulder. She isn't sure who fell asleep first, or when, but _is_ sure she should wake him up and send him home. 

Maybe it's because she enjoyed their time together, maybe it's because she's too tired to bother, but she doesn't. She closes her eyes and falls back asleep, despite the crick in her neck.

 

* * *

 

A new rhythm begins with Stiles and Malia after that. 

They go to the gym three times a week, Malia sort of becoming Stiles' personal trainer. They grab dinner, part ways to shower, then they get together to study, sometimes with Isaac or Scott or both of them. They start Game of Thrones, switching between their apartments depending on convenience, and Malia hates how much she likes the show, refuses to openly admit it. 

Occasionally she tags along with Isaac to watch the Pack perform, and Stiles will wink at her if he catches her eye. She gets dragged to late lunches with Scott by Stiles if he catches her at home before he leaves. Malia sleeps through the night, and doesn't have anymore unfortunate incidents in lab. 

All in all, it's a nice rhythm. 

Until it isn't. 

 

* * *

  

The end of this nice rhythm starts with an appearance by a girl named Erica. 

She's beautiful, wears a leather jacket, tight black pants and eye-catching red lipstick. A cascading blonde who sets her sights on Stiles at the beginning of November. 

She approaches the booth the Pack, plus Malia and Isaac, are sitting at, introduces herself, and tells them how great they are, making a comment about the drums in particular. That's all it takes for Stiles to start to talking to her, and eventually split off from the group to chat with her alone at the bar. 

Malia can't stop staring at them. She tries to, but something inside won't let her. 

Erica touches Stiles a lot, laughs just a little too much, and Malia decides she hates her. 

"Lia?"

Malia turns to look at Isaac, who's staring at her in concern. 

"Are you okay?" He asks. 

"Fine," she says. 

Isaac gestures down to the space between them in the booth. When Malia looks she sees she's gripping onto Isaac's thigh for dear life. She lets go. 

"Sorry."

Isaac seems worried, and she can't blame him. She doesn't know what's wrong with her. She's never felt this way before.

Or at least she hasn't felt this since - 

Since that time in high school when Isaac had his first girlfriend and spent all his time with her, leaving Malia all alone. She'd been jealous. But this felt different. Back then she'd felt a sad kind of jealous, now, seeing Stiles flirting with some other girl, she just feels _angry_. 

_This is stupid. It's not like I have feelings for Stiles._

Except she sees Erica lean in close and whisper into his ear, and knows they'll go home together. Knows she'll be forced to hear them together and it makes her want hurl, makes something heavy sit in her gut. 

She makes some excuse to go home, ignoring Isaac's worried looks. But she doesn't go home. She goes to Isaac's apartment, letting herself in with the spare key and curls up in his bed.

_It's stupid. I shouldn't be this upset. I didn't even know I liked him like that._

But it feels almost like a lie. 

Isaac comes home roughly an hour later. He doesn't say anything when he walks into his room and sees her. He just kicks off his shoes, pulls off hers, and lies down beside her. She snuggles up next to him, resting her head on his chest. 

Eventually, he says, "He didn't go home with her," and she fills with relief, the heavy weight in her gut dissipating. 

_Of course he knows._

"I like him," Malia says just to test the way it feels. It feels right, feels like the truth. "I _really_ like him."

"Just kind of snuck up on you, didn't it?"

Malia nods. 

"Are you gonna tell him?" Isaac asks. 

"I don't know yet," she sighs. 

 

* * *

 

It continues to stop being nice when she realizes just _how much_ she likes Stiles, and his sarcasm and his stupid jokes and his flailing limbs. How much she looks forward to seeing him, or getting a  _you hungry_ text or him knocking on her door when he's ready for the gym. 

If he doesn't return her feelings, she risks losing all of it and she doesn't think she can take it if she does. Funny how fast he went from being her obnoxious neighbor to her crush. A lot could change in the span of four months. 

A lot more could change, and not for the better if she tells him. 

She doesn't say anything, and Isaac doesn't pressure her to. 

 

* * *

 

"You're meeting his mom?" Malia asks, watching as Isaac buttons up his shirt. 

"Yup, and so are you," Isaac tells her. 

"I am?"

"I told Scott about our pathetic Thanksgiving with Dad, and he invited all of us to have dinner with him and his mom - and well, Stiles and his dad." Isaac tells her. "I already cleared it with Dad."

"And when were you going to tell me?" Malia questions. 

"Right now," he tells her, before turning around and presenting himself to her. "Well?"

"Looks like you're trying too hard," Malia tells him. "Just wear that blue henley you wore on your first date and tell Scott to wear his red one."

"Why?"

"I don't know, those just seem to be your colors," Malia says. 

Isaac considers it, makes a face, and then jumps onto the bed next to her. "Are you going to be all right seeing Stiles?"

"I see him almost everyday," she points out. 

"Yeah, but now you have a big fat crush on him."

Malia glares. "Shut up. I do not."

"See, that only works if you haven't already admitted to it," Isaac tells her. 

Malia rolls her eyes. "Yeah, well, it's not like Thanksgiving is exactly a romantic holiday. Its just eating too much then struggling not to fall asleep."

Isaac chuckles. "Fair point. How about Christmas then?"

"Are we having Christmas with them too?"

"Maybe," Isaac says with a shrug. "If they like us I guess."

Malia gives him a rueful smile. "Well, you _are_ a very hard person to like, so I doubt they'll invite us back." 

Isaac snorts. "Yeah, _I'm_ the unlikable one."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He clears his throat and says, "To put it clearly, Malia is very blunt and prone to violence - 

In turn, Malia cuts in with, "To put it in latent terms, Isaac is very shy and reacts badly to touch - "

" - she frightens her peers, many of whom have taken to calling her the big bad wolf and she doesn't seem to care. Action should be taken immediately to prevent her from thinking this behavior is acceptable. Anger management recommended."

" - he is unsociable and can't seem to connect to his peers who are scared to get to close to him after the incident with Jackson Whittmore. Without interference I'm afraid he will continue down this path. Child trauma specialist recommended."

They both glare at each other. 

"Guess this means we're both unlikable," Malia says. 

"Guess so," Isaac agrees. "Probably why we're stuck with each other."

Malia nods gravely. "I'll never be rid of you."

Isaac grabs a pillow and hits her with it repeatedly. "Jerk," he says. "You know you couldn't live without me."

She chuckles as she nabs it and hits him back once, twice, before putting it under her head. "I know," she agrees. 

There's a lull, Smithereens by twenty one pilots playing softly from Isaac's portable speaker. If the next song is Next To Me by Imagine Dragons, then he's definitely playing his  _anxious_ playlist or, as Malia likes to call it, his _at least I'll always have Lia_ playlist. She doesn't always get his song choices for this playlist, and its always in constant flux, but she's learned to recognize it when she hears it.

"Have you told Scott about any of it?" Malia asks as the song transitions into exactly what she expects. 

"Well I told him how Henry, is our adoptive Dad, and how he fostered me first, but I didn't tell him how that came to be." Isaac tells her. "I also haven't told him about Echo house or my family."

"Think he'll go running for the hills when he finds out?" Malia questions. 

Isaac shrugs. "I don't think so, but..."

"You're afraid to find out since you're already in love with him?" Malia guesses. 

"Terrified."

It's another reason to not tell Stiles how she feels. 

* * *

 

Malia picks at the skirt Lydia let her borrow. She's used to wearing jean shorts that barely cover anything, but this skirt feels exposing in way they never do. 

She hears a knock on her door and goes to answer it. 

It's Stiles. He’s dressed in his usual plain shirt-plaid overshirt combination. 

"Wow, you look..."

"Nice?" 

"...like Lydia," He says.

Malia huffs. "Isaac told me to dress nice, but not up, so I asked Lydia for help," she explains, stepping back so he can come in. 

"Well, I say lose the skirt and wear those black jean shorts, but keep the top," Stiles says. 

Malia considers it as she shuts her door. "I'll be back in a minute," she tells him.

He nods and goes to sit on the couch. 

Malia feels much better wearing her shorts, glad they have just enough extra room to tuck in the blue silk shirt Lydia picked out for her. She slips on the strappy black sandals and goes to give herself a once over in her mirror. 

_Better._

She grabs the small black bag Lydia also lent her and puts the gold chain over her body, pleased the bag itself rests perfectly against her hip.  It already has her phone, and chapstick inside **.** She makes sure everything in her room is off and then heads to the living room. 

"Ready?" She asks. 

He gets up, pocketing his phone. "Yup."

When he turns to look at her he smiles. "See, that's more you."

"Only the shorts are me," Malia points out. 

"Yeah, but I mean, I couldn't picture you in high heels and a skirt." He says. "This feels more your style. Subtle, but still pretty."

Malia tilts her head. "Is that your roundabout way of saying I look nice?"

"Yes."

"Thanks," she says, checking him out since she has an excuse. His red and black plaid overshirt looks brighter, and cleaner, than most of his usual ones. "You look nice too, is that a new shirt?" 

"Uh, yeah, Scott bought it for me," Stiles tells her. "Said I had to put in at least minimum effort since we were having guests this year."

"And minimum effort is no holes or mystery stains?" Malia guesses. 

"Exactly."

Malia shakes her head. "Come on, we don't want to be late."

It's only a twenty minute drive to Scott's mom's, and Malia's glad for it, unable to take the screeching Stiles calls singing anymore, even if she thinks it's kind of adorable to watch his overdramatic dancing. 

Mrs. McCall answers the door. "You must be, Malia," she greets with a friendly smile. "It's nice to meet you. I'm Melissa."

"It's nice to meet you too," Malia says politely as she steps into the house. 

"Did you all plan to wear the same colors?" Melissa asks, shutting the door after Stiles comes in. 

Malia tilts her head in confusion until Melissa clarifies with, "Scott and Isaac are wearing red and blue too."

"Oh! Uh, kind of." Malia answers. "I told Isaac what to wear."

Melissa smiles. "Well you all look very nice."

"Even me?" Stiles asks. 

Melissa turns to inspect what he's wearing. "No holes or grease stains so, yes, even you Stiles."

Stiles grins. 

"Scott and Isaac are helping me in the kitchen, but both of your dads are in the living room," Melissa informs them. 

"Need more help in the kitchen?" Stiles asks. 

Melissa snorts. "From _you?_ I don't think so."

Stiles sticks his tongue out at Melissa and she does the same to him before heading off to the kitchen. Stiles grabs Malia's hand and leads her to the living room, letting go when he sees his Dad so he can throw himself onto his lap.

The sheriff grunts on impact. "Stiles, get off of me," he says sounding annoyed.

Malia goes over to her own dad and he stands up to give her a bear hug. "Hey sweetie, it's good to see you," he says. 

"You too," she replies. 

"Malia," Stiles says, drawing her attention as her dad finally lets go, "this is my Dad, Dad this is my neighbor Malia."

The sheriff pushes his son off his lap and onto he floor, then offers his hand out for her to shake. "Nice to meet you."

"You too," Malia says, shaking his hand.

"Can I get a little help?" Stiles asks. 

Malia rolls her eyes and hauls him up to his feet, placing him in front of her dad so she can introduce them. Once that's done, Stiles decides to show her Scott's old room upstairs. 

It looks about how she expects it to. Modest, clean, comfortable. She sits on the end of the bed, Stiles sitting next to her. 

"Is there a reason we came up here instead of staying downstairs and watching TV?" Malia asks, because she likes Scott, but his old bedroom isn't really of much interest to her. 

"Thought our dads should bond," Stiles says. "My dad doesn't have a lot friends his age."

"Mine either." Malia admits. "So what are we going to do?"

"Uh...." Stiles looks around until he spots something, jumping up to get whatever it is. He returns holding up a box of cards. "How do you feel about uno?"

"With two people?"

"It's this or scrabble."

"Uno it is," Malia says. 

They sit on the floor to play, but with only the two of them it's not that fun so they spice it up a little. For every reverse the other person has to tell an embarrassing story, for every skip the other person has to admit to a weird habit, for every wild card they have to admit a secret before they can change the color. 

Hearing stories about all the antics Stiles used to drag Scott into, how he tends to listen to the police scanner when he studies alone even though he's barred from going to any crime scenes, and laughing at all the awkward situations he's been in leaves her feeling warm. Happy. 

And the feeling only grows every time he laughs, or smiles or teases her about her own stories with Isaac - well, the ones not in Echo house - but especially when he tells her that it's not that weird that she sometimes sleeps with a doll. Maybe if he knew _why_ he would, but he doesn't ask so she doesn't tell. 

He's good about that really. He never presses her if he stumbles into dangerous territory. He'll simply change the subject until she smiles again. Though he does ask her about herself a lot, and he takes each answer she can give as if he's storing it for later. 

She's been in his apartment, seen his murder board, seen all the mysteries he's tried to solve. 

_"What's with the string?" She had asked the first time she saw it._

_"They represent different stages of the investigation, green is solved, yellow is to be determined, red is unsolved and blue...blue is just pretty."  He had explained._

She sometimes wonders if that's how he sees her. A mystery on his murder board. Wonders about the colors of the strings. She suspects there's more red and yellow than anything. 

But maybe that could change, maybe she should fill the board with green all at once and see what happens. 

Or maybe little by little she can add green and hope when he takes a step back to take it all in he won't be horrified by what he sees. Hope he'll stick around to add in blue string because  _blue is just pretty_ and that's how he sees her, even after solving her mystery. 

Malia hears someone walking down the hall and turns to look at the doorway. A few seconds later, Scott appears. 

"Hey guys, dinner's ready," Scott announces.

"Oh, _finally_ , I'm starving!" Stiles exclaims. 

Everyone is already seated at the kitchen table waiting for them. Malia takes the empty seat next Isaac and across from her dad, while Stiles sits on the other end next to his Dad and across from Scott. 

It takes them all a chaotic few minutes to get food on their plates, but once they do the fun begins. Melissa tells stories embarrass Scott in front of Isaac, the Sheriff tells them about the many times he caught Scott and Stiles lurking around crime scenes. Isaac and Melissa bond over Scott, Stiles and Scott talk about their futures, the Sheriff eats, and Malia takes the opportunity to check up on her dad before the chaos turns back into a group discussion. 

It's so much nicer than eating pizza, watching Christmas movies and falling asleep in the living room. It's always just a little too quiet when it's just the three of them, even when they're having fun. 

Eventually, Melissa asks her dad, "How did you come to foster Isaac?"

Henry hesitates, looks at both Malia and Isaac for permission. Malia shares a look with Isaac and she can tell he's ready, so she nods, aware the rest of the table is staring at them.

"It was because of Malia, actually," Henry says. "She and Isaac first met at their therapist's office when they were nine. And then they - uh - _kept_ meeting as they got older and Malia begged me to adopt him. I said no at first, but she kept asking so I started talking to him and asking around about him. I learned what a sweet kid he could be despite - "

Isaac clears his throat.

"Despite his past and so I looked into becoming a foster parent. I officially adopted him on his twelfth birthday and I'm just so proud to be able to call him my son," Henry finishes, smiling at Isaac. 

Isaac ducks his head like he does when he's embarrassed. 

And that could've been the little bit of green to give Stiles - learning she was in therapy at nine years old - but of course Stiles decides to pick at a thread, albeit not the one she would've expected. 

"Wait, if you guys grew up here like us, why have we never met?" 

Malia freezes in place, feels Isaac do the same next to her. Henry looks to them again, reaches over and grabs one hand from each of them and squeezes. 

_God, we must look like such freaks._

She meets her father's gaze and nods, he looks to Isaac who must nod too because Henry pulls away from them, says, "They took special classes in elementary and middle school and then they spent most of their time in Echo House before we moved away. We only moved back a few years ago when they decided to go to school here."

"You mean Eichen house?" The Sheriff questions. "The mental institution?"

Henry nods. "They had some lingering issues from their past and they had to keep going back there until they were fifteen."

Malia appreciates how vague he's being, hopes maybe it'll answer enough questions and dinner can go back to being fun. She feels Isaac grab her hand and squeezes. Eichen was hard to talk or be reminded about, even now.

"Wasn't that place shut down because of experiments done on the patients?" Stiles asks.

Henry looks down at his plate, clears his throat, "It was."

His response is met with deafening silence. 

_Maybe we should've just stayed home._

Malia dares only to look at Isaac and sees him staring down at his lap, waiting. 

_Do something, Scott._

As if he heard her, Scott reaches over, takes Isaac's hand, and smiles softly at him, then Malia too. 

"It's a shame we didn't meet sooner, but I'm glad we all got a chance to know each other now," he says. And he may still not know everything, but the sentiment fills Malia with relief and then warmth when Stiles says, "Me too," when she steals a glance at him. 

Melissa is the one to steer the conversation into lighter territory by asking, "How _did_ you guys meet?"

Malia straightens in her chair, happy to talk about this, knowing it will probably make the Sheriff yell at his son and validate the last part of her still upset about the whole thing.

 

* * *

 

Malia wakes up abruptly to a pain in her side, before she can investigate, she feels a bony elbow dig into her side. She huffs and smacks Stiles in the center of his chest, he makes an ugly snorting sound before his eyes shoot open. He turns to look at her, then lifts his head to take in the others who are all passed out in different places of the living room. The only light in the room coming from the TV asking _are you still watching?_

"What time is it?" He asks. 

"I don't know, but scoot over before your bony elbows give me permanent rib damage," She mutters, adjusting her blanket. 

He moves a little farther away and Malia tries to fall back asleep before she wakes up too much.

"Malia?" Stiles asks. 

"Yeah?" She yawns.

"We're friends right?" 

Malia frowns. "Duh."

"So, do you think you'll ever tell me the full story? Not necessarily about Eichen or the therapy, but something real, something not about Isaac."

Malia doesn't respond at first, considers her answer carefully. "I want to, but I'm not ready. All I can give you is pieces."

"I can do pieces," Stiles tells her quietly. 

She rolls around so she's facing him. They just stare at each other. 

"I had a younger sister, her name was Kylie," Malia says after a bit, doesn't elaborate.

Stiles nods and it's as if she can see him mentally putting a yellow string to that information. He turns on his side and rests his hand next to hers, not touching, just close enough so that it wouldn't take much to be.

Malia puts her hand over his. 

_Little by little then._

This night officially ends the nice rhythm between them _._

 

* * *

 

And in it's place a new one emerges, a steadier one.

They still go to the gym, still study, and eat together, but now, more often than not, it's just the two of them. 

Malia finds herself actively seeking Stiles out now. She doesn't have be dragged anywhere and it's no longer _tagging along_ with Isaac to shows, but that she has an open invite.

She finds herself barging into Stiles' apartment when she's bored and he starts doing the same. They do the mundane things like get groceries, do laundry, run errands together.

And this time, the rhythm doesn't end, it crescendos. 

 

* * *

 

It starts at Christmas break, the week before the actual holiday. 

Malia can't sleep so she texts Stiles and he tells her he's at Parrish's practicing. She's just bored enough to ask him for the address. 

Parrish's place is a little bigger than hers, definitely cleaner and more polished, but still just as homey. 

"Has he gotten any noise complaints?" Malia asks as she follows Stiles over to his drums which seem to be set up in a would-be dining area. Chairs lining the wall and a table pushed out of the way. 

"A few, yeah, but nothing's really happened yet," Stiles answers. 

Malia hums and before Stiles can sit, she steals his seat. 

"You wanna give it a try?" Stiles suggests. 

 She shrugs. "Why not?"

He hands her his drumsticks and says, "Show me what you got."

Malia grins and starts playing frantically, no attempt at a beat or a rhythm, just hitting however feels right. She stops with one last hit to one of the cymbals and turns to look at Stiles. "How was that?" She asks. 

"Painful. Very, very, painful," He says, making a very unflattering face.

"That's how it felt when I had to hear it through the well every night," She tells him. 

He sighs. "Guess I'm still not up to one million and one yet, huh?"

"Nope," Malia says. 

"Am I close?"

Malia shrugs. "Maybe."

"What if I teach you a song? Will that count in my favor?" Stiles asks. 

"Only if it's Scream Queen," Malia says. 

"Is that your favorite song of ours?" 

Malia nods. "I like the way Lydia screams."

Stiles snorts. "If I didn't know the context I'd be very alarmed by that statement." 

Malia chuckles. 

"All right, so what you're gonna do is..."

It takes an hour for Malia to even learn half of the song, apparently not having any natural affinity for drumming even when she tries, and by that point she decides she needs a break. They go to the kitchen to find some food and are surprised to find a big container in the fridge with a sticky note attached that just says _Stiles_. 

"That softie saved me some leftovers," Stiles says fondly. 

"Leftovers of what?" Malia questions

It turns out to be chicken alfredo. Stiles heats it up while Malia grabs a couple of blue Powerades and heads to the living room, getting comfortable on the couch. She grabs the remote from the coffee table, turns on the TV, and starts flipping through the channels. 

Stiles joins her a few minutes later with two plates, and they settle in to watch a rerun of _Friends_. 

"So why couldn't you sleep?" Stiles asks after a while. 

Malia slows her chewing to give her time to think of what to tell him. 

_Little by little, right?_

"It's the anniversary of Kylie and my stepmom's death tomorrow - or I guess today technically," Malia answers.

"Oh," Stiles says. 

"We were in a car accident," she continues, "I survived. They didn't."

"Are you...okay?"

Malia nods at first, but then she shakes her head. "This time of year's really hard for me and my Dad. If it wasn't for Isaac, I don't know how we'd ever get through it."

He drops his fork on his plate, reaches over and grabs her hand, squeezing gently. "Well now you've got me too," he says softly.

Malia's stomach does a funny little flip. She smiles. 

He smiles back, then looks away from her. "You know, my mom passed away too."

Malia didn't know, hadn't thought it was fair to ask when she was so elusive with her own history. "What happened to her?" Malia asks. 

"She had frontotemporal dementia, it's a shrinkage in the brain," He explains. "There's no cure."

Malia's heart aches at the sadness weighing his gaze now. She properly links their hands, turns her hand palm up and slips her fingers in between hers. 

He looks at their hands, rubs his thumb lightly against the back of her hand. "I was with her when she died, but that...that wasn't the hard part. The hard part was watching my mom disappear long before that. It was having to hear her yell at me, insisting that it was _me_ who was killing her. It was seeing her look at me with hatred in her eyes and begging my dad not to let me anywhere near her sometimes."

A heavy silence fills the room as he stops talking. 

_More._

"The last thing I ever said to my mother and sister was that I wished they were dead," Malia tells him, breaking the silence. 

He looks up at her with his sad eyes, and she sees no judgment in them. "They knew you didn't mean it," he tells her. 

It's something she's heard a thousand times from both Isaac and her Dad, but hearing it from Stiles, someone not caught up in her own self identity, someone who cares about her but isn't too close, she starts to think maybe it's okay believe it this time. 

"I'm sorry about your mom," Malia says. 

"I'm sorry about your mom and sister," He says back. 

Eventually, they go back to eating, and it's a little awkward eating with one hand, but neither of them make to let go of each other. 

 

* * *

 

That afternoon, Malia finds herself at her dad's with Isaac. The day is too hard to spend it apart, and they all know Henry will drink if he's left alone. Movies and too much junk food is the healthier alternative.

"I want to tell Scott," Isaac says suddenly into the third movie of the day. "All of it."

Malia hears the silent question underneath, the one asking for her permission. Their lives have been so tangled together for so long now, it would be impossible  for him to tell Scott about his past without revealing hers. It's terrifying to think of exposing the secrets she's always kept so carefully hidden, but it's _Isaac_ who's asking.

He wouldn't ask unless he was sure about Scott. 

"I think you should," She tells him. 

He looks both surprised and relieved. "Are you sure?"

Malia nods. "Just...make sure he doesn't tell Stiles, okay? I want to be the one to tell him."

"Of course I - wait, _you_ want to tell Stiles?"

Malia stares down at the couch. "Not yet, but eventually."

"You trust him."

It's not a question but she says, "Yes," anyway.

She glances at him when he doesn't speak and sees he's smiling. 

"Shut up," she says, but his smile only grows wider. 

"So," her dad, who she'd forgotten was there, says,"does that mean I have to give him the talk then?"

Malia lifts her head with a frown. "Please don't."

"But I already gave it to Scott," He says. 

"You did  _what?!_ " Isaac exclaims.

 

* * *

 

Isaac tells Scott the next day. 

Scott doesn't run away, not from either of them. 

Malia thinks maybe it means Stiles won't either. 

 

* * *

 

Christmas Eve at the McCall's is just like Thanksgiving, full of laughter, teasing and storytelling. They stuff their faces and settle into the living room to watch cheesy Christmas movies since presents aren't supposedto be opened until the next morning. 

Stiles grabs her hand at some point, and she just smiles and scoots closer to him. 

"Hot chocolate, anyone?" Melissa asks after _It's A Wonderful Life_ ends. 

She's answered by a chorus of  _yes please._

Scott and Malia get up to help her, and it's left up to Stiles and Isaac to choose the next movie. Melissa sets the water to boil then goes to the restroom, leaving themto fill the mugs with cocoa powder.

"So you and Stiles have been spending a lot of time together," Scott comments.

"So have you and Isaac," she points out.

Scott chuckles. "Well, he’s my boyfriend. What’s your excuse?"

Malia refuses to blush as she meets his gaze. "He’s my friend."

"But do you want him to be more?" Scott questions.

"No," Malia tells him, but he just stares at her with his kind, brown eyes, and she corrects herself almost immediately with a quiet, " _Maybe_."

Scott grins. "I think you two would be good together."

Malia turns away from him, putting cocoa powder in the last mug. "Even with my past?" She questions. "I mean, I have a lot of baggage Scott. A lot. "

He doesn't respond immediately. She hears a spoon clatter against a mug and  sees him putting spoons in the mugs, one by one when she glances over at him.

"Malia, after everything you've gone through you deserve to be happy," Scott says, turning to face her. "Stiles makes you happy, you make _him_ happy, and I know he won't run away once you tell him everything. _I_ didn't."

"Yeah, well, you're like the nicest guy ever and he's..."

"A sarcastic asshole?" Scott supplies.

Malia laughs. "Exactly."

Scott laughs too. "But it's still hard not to love him, huh?"

Malia smiles and nods. 

"He won't leave when you tell him," Scott tells her earnestly. 

It's here, taking in Scott's warm smile, and kind eyes, that she starts to believe that. 

Melissa returns just then. "Am I interrupting something?" She asks.

"No," they both answer. 

Melissa doesn't appear to believe them, but she doesn't press. 

It takes a few more minutes for the water to boil, and then another few to get all of the mugs filled and mixed. They take two mugs each and head back to the living room.

" _Die Hard_ isn't a Christmas movie!" Isaac exclaims.

"Yes it is!" Stiles exclaims back.

"Just because it takes place on Christmas doesn't mean it's a Christmas movie!" Isaac points out.

"Yes it does!" Stiles insists.

"Lia?" Isaac asks, turning to look at her as she walks over to the coffee table.

Stiles looks at her too.

"It's not a Christmas movie," Malia tells them.

"Yes it is," Scott says.

"It's definitely a Christmas movie," Henry confirms, earning a look of betrayal from his children. 

They all spend ten minutes arguing about it before they end up watching _Die Hard._

Stiles smirks as he takes his place next to her on the floor and she sticks her tongue out at him. 

He reaches for his mug. "No one likes a sore loser, Malia," he says and then he promptly spills hot chocolate on himself 

Malia grins.

"Oh, don't start," He mutters.

Malia doesn't say a word.

 

* * *

 

Malia stares up at the moon as if it'll give her the answers she seeks. She'd woken up, wrapped around Stiles, ten minutes prior and it had made her heart ache with how much she wanted that casual intimacy with him all the time. 

She hears the door open behind her but doesn't look to see who it is. 

"Hey," Stiles says. "What are you doing out here? Aren't you cold?"

"Just thinking," she tells him.

He sits on the step next to her. "About what?"

"Stuff."

"What kind of stuff?" Stiles questions.

Malia doesn't answer and they get enveloped by silence while she thinks of what she wants from Stiles.

"Stiles," she says after a while. 

"Yeah?" He asks.

"I like you."

"Well it's been almost six months I woul - "

"I mean as more than a friend," Malia cuts in, turning to face him. 

She watches his expression, see it shift from confused to stunned to happy, a big dopey grin spreading across her face. 

"I like you too," He says. 

Malia's heart stutters. She hadn't expected that. She'd hoped, but to actually hear it...

She leans forward and kisses him, pleased when he kisses her back, soft and sweet. He smiles at her when she pulls away. She kisses him again just to avoid seeing the tender way he's looking at her any longer. It's too much.

"So Christmas then."

They jump apart and see Isaac standing in the doorway smirking.

"Shut up," Malia says.

"What?" Stiles asks. 

Isaac ignores both of them. "Will you two come in already? You’re letting the cold in." 

They both get up and head inside, Isaac stopping Malia briefly to say, "We're talking about this later," before shutting the door and following them back to the living room.

The next time Malia wakes up, Stiles is cuddled into her side and she smiles, heart full.

Then she hears, "So I  _do_ have to give him the talk," and her smile vanishes.

 

* * *

 

New Years is spent at party hosted by Scott's fraternity. It's packed and loud, but still fun.

Malia dances with Stiles for a while, despite how bad he is at it, his flailing limbs proving to be a safety hazard a few different times. Then they drink a little too much, steal a bag of Queso chips and end up making out on Scott's bed until they're interrupted.

"In my boyfriend's bed, Lia? That's gross, that's where I sleep!" Isaac exclaims.

"Oh, we all know you didn't come up here to sleep," Stiles says as Malia gets off him. 

"Gross," Malia mutters, grabbing the chips off the bed. 

"You guys want me to drive you home?" Scott asks. 

"It's not even midnight yet," Stiles says. 

"Dude, it turned midnight fifteen minutes ago," Scott tells him. 

"It did?" Stiles questions. 

"Yeah, didn't you guys hear everyone counting down?" Isaac asks. 

"We were kind of busy," Malia points out. 

Isaac makes a face. 

"I think we'll walk," Stiles says, but then he gets up and immediately trips so Scott insists on driving them.

Stiles starts singing along to the radio, and even though their apartment building is barely five blocks away, Isaac shuts off the radio immediately. This doesn't deter a drunk Stiles who finishes the song just they arrive at the apartments. 

"I see now why he's the only one who doesn't get to sing," Isaac says to Scott. 

Malia chuckles and pulls Stiles out of the car before he can take offense. They both call out their goodbyes and make their way upstairs to Malia's apartment. 

Stiles kicks off his shoes and launches himself onto the bed while Malia pulls off her clothes.

"Malia?" Stiles asks sleepily. 

"Yeah?" Malia questions, looking around for a nightshirt. 

"What are those marks?" 

Malia pauses her search to touch her side. "I was almost eaten by a coyote."

"Oh," Stiles says, and then he goes quiet. She thinks he's fallen asleep.

Malia finds a too big shirt and pulls it on.

Stiles jolts awake suddenly. "You _what_?"

Malia walks over to the bed. "I'll tell you about it later, okay? Let's just go to bed."

Stiles blinks at her a moment, then he nods and scoots over on the bed. Malia turns off the lamp she forgot to turn off before she left and gets in next to him. They struggle to fit together just right, but eventually they settle comfortably and fall asleep. 

 

* * *

 

Malia gives herself a once over in the mirror, picking at the lace on her shorts. Lydia had taken her shopping this time, determined to find her something both cute and her style.Malia was amazed by the black shorts designed to look like a short lace skirt, and how well it went with a simple, tight red shirt tucked into it.

"You look great," Isaac says. 

"Are you saying that as my best friend or an objective observer?" Malia questions.

"Both," he says.

Malia nods, deciding she does look great, and grabs the black boots Lydia insisted she buy. 

"Can you even walk in those?" Isaac asks as she sits on the edge of the bed.

"It's a small heel," Malia points out as she puts one on.

"Okay..."

They hear a knock on the front door.

"Wow, I'm surprised he actually knocked," Isaac says. "Doesn't he usually just barge in?"

"Let him in," Malia says. "I'll be there in a minute."

Isaac sighs and gets up to do as he was told. Malia pulls on the other boot and gets up to grab the same purse Lydia had lent her last time. She shuts off everything in her room and heads to the living room.

"You know your dad already had this talk with me," she hears Stiles say.

Malia rolls her eyes and picks up the pace, the sound of her boots echoing down the hall. 

"Yeah, well, Malia's someone worth protecting," Isaac tells him. 

She doesn't expect the tender, "I know," from Stiles. It makes her heart stutter.

"I can protect myself," she says as she steps into the living room.

They both turn to look at her from their spots on the couch.

"Oh, I know you can my little champion," Isaac replies with a wink.

Malia refrains from laughing solely because they have a bet on how long it will take Stiles to realize she isn't actually a kickboxing champ. 

"Wow," Stiles breathes as he stands up. "You look amazing."

Malia smiles.  "Thanks." She looks him over, taking in the dark grey button up with it's sleeves rolled up, black jeans and black converse. "You look great."

"It's like you're both afraid of color when you dress up," Isaac teases. He stands up and sheds his leather jacket, handing it over to Malia. "It's kind of chilly."

"Oh, thanks," Malia says as she takes it.

"But what about you?" Stiles asks.

"I'm staying here tonight," Isaac explains. "My laptop's battery is fried so I have to use Lia's, and she refuses to just let me take it home."

"Because the last time you took it you didn't give it back for three weeks and it had a virus from  - 

"I wouldn't do it again!" Isaac exclaims before she can say that _sizekink video you downloaded._ Which to be fair, it had been a decent video despite what it did to her laptop after she clicked on it - just out of curiosity of course. 

Malia puts on his jacket. "Yes you would."

"I meant forget to delete it," Isaac says.

Stiles chuckles while Malia rolls her eyes. She adjusts her jacket then grabs Stiles's hand. "Let's go," she tells him.

"Have her home by midnight!" Isaac calls after them.

Stiles takes her to Dave and Buster's, which is a bit of a relief because it's famliar, makes her feel less nervous about being on her first date in over a year.

"So where were you all day?" Stiles asks. "I went to see if you wanted to have lunch with me and my Dad, but you weren't there."

"I got called in to work," Malia answers. "They were understaffed for lunch."

"Ah. Well my dad was asking about you today." 

"He was?" Malia questions. 

"Yeah, he wanted to know if I'd finally gotten the courage to ask you out yet," Stiles says. 

Malia smiles, amused. "Did you tell him about tonight?"

"I did and he told me not to screw it up," Stiles tell her. "I feel like I should be offended by how many people seem to think I'm going to hurt you or mess this up between us. Scott's the only one who doesn't seem worried."

Malia's smile grows bigger. Of course Scott wasn't worried, he had this unwavering faith in the people he loved. "My dad and Isaac are just protective of me. It's nothing personal. And I'm sure your dad only said that because he wants you to be happy."

"And Scott's just an optimist," Stiles adds.

Malia reaches across the table, puts her hand over his. " _Scott's_ the one you should listen to."

Stiles looks hopeful as he asks, "He is?"

"I  _like_  you, Stiles," Malia tells him. "That's big for someone like me."

"Someone like you?"

Malia squeezes his hand. "It may be hard to believe, but I haven't always been so approachable."

Stiles snorts and opens his mouth to make a remark, but Malia continues on, "I've only had one real friend since I was nine years old. I have a hard time connecting with people, but you...well you're the first person I've connected with in a long time."

Stiles flips his hand palm up and squeezes her hand. He smiles at her softly. "You are for me too. I didn't think it was possible after how many times you nearly kicked my door in, but uh...it turns out you’re actually pretty amazing."

Malia fills with warmth, and she wants to kiss him again, but refrains. They'll have time for that later.

"You know, I've been wondering about something lately," Stiles says. 

"About what?"

"You and Isaac."

"What about us?"

"Why haven't you two ever...?"

"You mean besides him legally being my  _brother_?" Malia questions, then when he nods says, "To me he's the kid that didn't run away when he saw how broken I was and to him I'm the girl that stayed after seeing how damaged he was. We love each other, and we need each other, but being together like that...it just isn't possible."

Stiles nods. "I get that. And I know it was kind of dumb of me to ask in the first place, but you two don't act like brother and sister. I've never even heard you two use those terms to describe each other so I was just wondering if maybe there was a reason for that?"

"We both had a sibling. We know what it's like to be a brother and a sister, and our relationship, it's just not that," Malia explains. 

She can see him mentally adding both a green and a yellow string to the board, can picture the pins he's wrapped them around.

"What made you choose Isaac?" Stiles asks. "I mean, why did you want your Dad to adopt him?"

Malia considers the questions, not because she doesn't know if she wants to answer, but because choosing Isaac had felt so natural she never thought twice about it. 

"I guess because he chose me first," Malia says after a moment. "He never saw me as  _the big bad wolf_  like the other kids."

"The big bad wolf?" Stiles questions curiously. 

Malia hesitates to answer, a natural instinct to keep quiet about her issues kicking in, but she decides to just go for it. 

"I have anger issues and when I was little it translated to impulse control and snapping on my classmates over the smallest things so they gave me that nickname," Malia explains. "They were all terrified of me."

"But not Isaac." He states. 

"Not Isaac," she confirms. "He was the first person to ever really understand me and I didn't want to lose him so that's why I bugged my dad about adopting him. I'm just glad Isaac was so charming or who knows where he’d be now.''

Stiles squeezes her hand again. "He was very lucky to have you in his corner back then."

Malia offers him a small smile and then she laughs. 

"What?" Stiles asks. 

"Nothing it's just...I'm pretty sure admitting to having anger issues and talking about my relationship with my best friend isn't what you're supposed to do on a first date." Malia says. 

Stiles grins. "Probably not, but who cares about what we're supposed to do?"

"In that case, it's your turn to talk about something that shouldn't be brought up on a first date," Malia says. 

"Okay, uh...my dad didn't take losing my mom very well and for a while I was afraid he was going to drink himself to death," Stiles says. 

Malia strokes the back of his hand with her thumb. 

"I used to try to dilute it or pour it out," Stiles continues,"but he’d just yell at me for wasting alcohol and went to get another bottle of Jack, grab his case files and go through them while he drank. I found him passed out on the kitchen table so many times it was practically his bed."

"Sometimes he’d even go to work drunk or with a killer hangover, and he wouldn't listen to me when I told him not to. And you know, he still told me he loved me, made sure I was doing okay, got his work done, but it was like he was just going through the motions. I never saw him smile, or cry, or enjoy anything. It was like that for months."

"What changed?" Malia prompts gently. 

"He got really drunk and almost burned down the house because he fell asleep cooking dinner," Stiles says. "He stopped drinking completely after that. Said he didn't want to risk my life just to ease his pain."

Malia squeezes his hand. 

"Now all I have to worry about is him having a heart attack from all the burgers he eats," Stiles says. 

Malia snorts. "You eat bacon with almost every meal. I think  _he_  should be the one worrying."

"If bacon is the thing that kills me, I will gladly accept my fate," Stiles tells her. 

Malia rolls her eyes, but can't help the amused smile that spreads across her face. 

Their food arrives,so they let go of each other just as the waitress sets down their respective plates. 

"You know," Malia says as the waitress leaves. "My dad used to drink a lot after my mom and my sister, but he’d still get up, take me to school, go to work, take me to therapy, pick me up from therapy, come home, make dinner and pass out on the couch with whatever liquor he picked up while I was in therapy. He was like that for months and months and I didn't know how to help him."

"He still tried to be there for me, always made sure I was taken care of but he just...he was going through the motions like your dad was. And then I started telling him about Isaac."

"He stopped because of Isaac?" Stiles guesses before popping a fry into his mouth. 

Malia nods. "Isaac's dad was...he wasn't a good man after losing his wife and oldest son. He used to beat Isaac for any small thing he did, but when he was drunk, he’d lock Isaac in a freezer and leave him in there for hours no matter how much he screamed or clawed at the the door."

"Christ," Stiles murmurs. 

"And after Isaac came to live with us, all it took was one fearful look from him at a bottle of vodka in my dad's hands for him to pour it out and stop drinking. Not forever. He slips up and drinks a beer every now and then, but he doesn't touch the hard stuff anymore and he doesn't get drunk. But it's part of why all three of us have to spend the anniversary of Kylie and my mom's deaths together."

"I wonder if alcoholic fathers are just to be expected in Beacon Hills," Stiles says. "I mean, me, Scott, you, Isaac. It's definitely a pattern."

Malia tilts her head curiously, picking up a couple of fries, "Scott?" she questions before stuffing her face. 

Stiles nods. "Except Scott's dad didn't have some personal tragedy, it was his work as an FBI agent that made him drink. One day, he was really drunk and he started arguing with Melissa and he accidentally knocked Scott down the stairs. Melissa told him to get out and he never came back."

Malia's heart aches for her friend. "Are you ever worried that being an FBI agent will drive you to drink like they all did?"

"You mean become an alcoholic father? I don't even have kids yet so..."

"Stiles."

Stiles sighs. He scratches the tip of his nose. "Maybe sometimes, but I know I can handle dead bodies and crime scenes. It's just the victims and their families I'm worried about dealing with, ya know? What if something goes wrong and I have to tell them we failed - that I failed?" 

Malia nods. "It's going to be tough, but this is what you've been working towards. You'll just have to find a better way to get through it than Scott's dad did."

Stiles stares up at her through his lashes, studies her a moment then says, "How about bacon? I could just eat a bunch of that instead."

Malia chuckles. " _No_."

Stiles pouts. "Then what do you suggest?"

Malia thinks a moment, and Stiles takes it as an opportunity to take large bite of his bacon cheeseburger. "Banana pudding," she decides. 

"Banana pudding?" She heard muffled by his mouthful of food. He swallows when she wrinkles her nose at the glimpse of chewed food she saw. "When chocolate pudding is an option?"

"Banana pudding is the  _best_  kind of pudding," Malia says. 

"That's debatable," Stiles tells her.

And then they spend half of dinner arguing about it, then the other half debating about the best kinds of candy and desserts, before ordering their own. 

"You know, I think we should get out dads to spend more time together," Malia says during a lull in conversation. 

"Why?" Stiles asks as he takes bite of his chocolate cake. 

"I think you were right at Thanksgiving. They could both use a friend," Malia answers. "And they seem to get along, but I think they're too used to being alone to ever reach out on their own. "

"So what do you think we should do?" Stiles asks. 

"Invite them to lunch with us some time?" She suggests. 

"Starting small. I like it." He says. "It could start with all of four of us, then we can slip away for a bit, and if they don't make plans on their own, we can just trick them into spending more time together."

"Sort of like _the_   _Parent Trap_ , except they won't fall in love," Malia says. 

Stiles lights up at that. "A movie reference? I'm so proud of you."

Malia rolls eyes. "Shut up."

"Never. It goes against my very nature." Stiles tells her solemnly. 

She snorts.

_God. I'm going to fall in love with this idiot, aren't I?_

Her stomach flutters at the thought. 

"Finish your dessert so we can play some games," Malia tells him, using her fork to break off a chunk of her Bananas Foster pie. 

After dessert they head over to the games, spending a good hour or so competing before they head home. 

"I had a lot of fun tonight," Stiles tells her as they reach his apartment. "I know the conversation wasn't always as light as it probably should have been for a first date, but...I like getting to know more about you. About the real stuff, and also about how you're a sore loser or how you’re freakishly good at skeeball."

Malia chuckles and grabs both of his hands. "I had fun too."

"Want to do it again sometime?" Stiles asks. 

Malia smiles, stepping closer to him. Instead of answering, she kissed him, slow and sweet. She feels Stiles smile into the kiss. 

He's still smiling when she pulls away. "I'll take that as a yes."

Malia starts walking backwards towards her apartment, her arms stretching to accommodate her hold on his hands until finally she has to let go. "I'll see you tomorrow," she says, reaching for her doorknob. 

"See you." He tells her, turning to unlock his door. 

But Malia doesn't go inside. 

Stiles opens his door, and looks at her curiously. "What?"

Malia rushes over to him, grabs him by his shirt and kisses him again, but this time it isn't soft or sweet, just full of passion and promise. Stiles wraps his arms around her, his hands splaying across her back, shifting as he pulls her closer. 

"Goodnight, Stiles," Malia breathes when they part, letting go of him.

"Goodnight, Malia," He breathes back. 

She turns around and walks into her apartment without looking back. She leans against the front door after it closes, a big smile she can't hope to contain spreading across her face.

"I take it things went well?" Isaac asks, startling her. 

Malia looks at him, and her smile only gets bigger. 

"Well don't just stand there," He says. "Tell me about it!"

She pushes off the door and goes to do just that

 

* * *

 

The first time they have sex, Stiles doesn't ask about the bite marks on her side or the claw marks on her back. Afterwards, he traces them with his finger occasionally, but doesn't pay them any special attention. 

Malia kind of loves him for that. 

 

* * *

 

Bad news comes in the form of a crate of banana pudding left on Malia's kitchen counter. She rips off the folded up note with her name on to read it

 _Scott's bringing my drums home today. Accept this pudding as a preemptive apology_. 

                                 ~ XOXO Stiles

Malia snorts. She grabs a pudding cup, finds a spoon and starts eating. She devours the pudding cup quickly and stores the rest in the fridge. She isn't thrilled about the return of the late night drumming, but she doesn't have any eight AM classes this semester so it won't be so bad this time around. 

 

* * *

 

It's mid-March by the time they finally start watching all of the movies Malia and Isaac missed out on starting with the Twilight saga - 

" _He sparkles?!" Isaac exclaims, dissolving into a fit of laughter._

_"I would have beat the shit out of him if he said that to me," Malia says._

_"I think I'd rather be a werewolf," Scott says, getting a chorus_ _of_ same _in response._

_"What the fuck? Their daughter is his soulmate?" Isaac asks, highly distressed by it all._

_"It wasn't even real?!" Malia shouts._

\- and then move on to the Harry Potter series the next week -

_"I want to go to Hogwarts," Isaac decides halfway through the first movie._

_"What house would I be in?" Malia asks._

_"Gryffindor," Stiles tells her. "Same with Scott."_

_Malia looks at him curiously. "What about you?"_

_"Slytherin, obviously." Stiles answers._

_"What about me?" Isaac questions._

_"Hufflepuff," Stiles tells him. Isaac doesn't believe him so they pause the movie and get on Pottermore which only confirms it._

\- and then finally get to Star Wars the next. 

Malia finds it incredibly cheesy, but her, Scott and Isaac know how important it is to Stiles that they watch it so they refrain from commenting.

It takes them all weekend to get through the series, and right after they finish _The Last Jedi,_ Stiles asks, "Well? What'd you guys think?"

Scott and Isaac start talking at the same time, not really saying anything comprehensible.

"You guys hated it," Stiles says.

Both of them start protesting at the same time.

"They were cheesy, and kind of dumb at times, but I liked them," Malia interjects honestly.

Stiles points to Malia. "See, _her_ I believe."

Scott puts his hand over Isaac's mouth and says, "They're good, just...over-hyped."

Isaac nods in agreement. 

Stiles' left eye twitches, but he just says, "That's fair."

Scott and Isaac offer to go pick up dinner, leaving Stiles and Malia to continue watching Riverdale, a show they both hate, but can't stop watching while they wait. 

"So," Stiles says about ten minutes into the episode, "I'm leaving in a month and a half."

"Yeah..."

"And I know you’re going to drive me down, but I just wanted to know what happens when we get there," Stiles says.

Malia looks up at him curiously. "What do you mean?" 

"I mean...are we going to do long distance or are we breaking up?"

Malia frowns, feeling unsettled at the possibility of them breaking up. "You don’t _want_ to break up, do you?"

"No!" Stiles exclaims immediately. "I just want us to be on the same page. Some people aren't even willing to try long distance so I thought I should ask."

Malia relaxes then. "Well I am."

Stiles smiles and pulls her closer with the arm he has wrapped around her. "I told you I'd grow on you."

"Like a fungus," Malia mutters, eliciting a pout from Stiles that she kisses away. 

"You’re not going to steal Scott from me, right?" He questions.

"Who says I haven't already?" Malia teases.

"Don't even joke about that," he says way too seriously.

Malia rolls her eyes. "Can we get back to making out now?"

"Not until you promise me you won't steal my best friend," Stiles says.

Malia sighs. "I promise, now come here, we don't have a lot of time before they come back."

Stiles smiles and kisses her.  

 

* * *

 

Malia wakes up screaming, pushing at something that isn't there. It takes a few seconds for her to realize it was only a nightmare. She takes deep breaths until she's calmed down. 

She hasn't had a nightmare in months, not since the anniversary of Kylie's death. 

Malia gets up and goes to the bathroom. When she returns to her room, She grabs Kylie's doll, but instead of going to curl up in bed like she normally does, she finds herself heading over to Stiles' apartment. 

She knocks on his door, regretting it almost immediately. He doesn't answer, so she tries the handle, both relieved and disappointed to find it unlocked. She heads to his room and finds him sprawled across his bed, snoring loudly.

Carefully, she curls up next to him, Kylie's doll settling in the space between them, and falls asleep. 

 

* * *

 

Malia wakes up to the smell of bacon, and it's enough to convince her get up for the day. She leaves the doll on the bed, makes a brief stop at the bathroom, and goes to the kitchen. 

"I thought you couldn't cook," Malia says as she walks in. 

Stiles glances over at her and smiles. "Good morning," he greets. 

She walks up behind him and wraps her arms around him. "Morning. "

"And I can't cook much besides bacon, eggs, and pancakes," Stiles informs her. 

"Is that why Mrs. McCall never lets you help in the kitchen?" Malia questions. 

Stiles shakes his head. "She doesn't let me help because she says I make too much of a mess."

Malia scans the kitchen, sees some pancake batter on the counter to the right of the stove, a bag of flour knocked over on the counter to the right next to some broken eggshells.

"I think she has a point," Malia tells him. 

Stiles starts flipping the pancakes. "Yeah, well, the mess just shows how I hard I tried."

She chuckles and kisses his cheek, furrowing her brow when she feels something foreign on her lips. She lets go of him and wipes her lips off, rolling her eyes fondly when she sees it's just flour. 

She starts cleaning up his mess while he continues to cook. It's pretty quiet save for the bacon cooking, so it's not long before Stiles subjects her to his awful singing, using his spatula as a microphone. She rolls her eyes and covers her ears, but he just sings louder, bumping her with his hip until she caves and reluctantly sings along. 

It's here that she comes to a realization.

_I love him._

The thought should scare her, make her want to run away, but it doesn't. Instead it finally makes her think, 

_Screw pieces._

Malia waits until they're sitting on the couch after breakfast to say, "Stiles?"

He looks at her curiously. "Yeah?"

Malia grabs his Xbox controller and pauses  _the Flash._

Stiles sits up, seeming to pick up on this being about something serious. "What is it?"

Malia turns to face him. "There are some things about me that I haven't told you yet, and I was going to keep telling you things little by little, but I think I should I just tell you everything now."

"Tell me what exactly?" Stiles asks. 

"About my past," Malia clarifies. 

"Oh, um, okay," Stiles says, adjusting his position in the couch so he's facing her. 

Malia takes a few steadying breaths, then says, "As you know, when I was nine years old I was in a car accident with my mom and my sister."

He nods encouragingly, and she grabs his right hand, holding it in between both of hers as she continues. 

"But what I haven't told you is that we flipped off the road and into the preserve. Kylie and my mom died on impact, but I was fine for the most part. I managed to crawl out of the car but I didn't make it very far before I passed out."

"When I woke up, I was being dragged away by a coyote. I freaked out and it attacked me, but I hit it with a rock and managed to get away. I was lost in the preserve for three days before anyone found me, barely alive and covered in dirt and blood."

"Three days?" Stiles questions. "How did the coyote not find you?"

Malia let's go of him and pulls up her shirt. 

"It did," Malia says. She runs her fingers over the scars left behind from the coyote's teeth. "These are bite marks from when it first attacked me," she twists around briefly and shows part of her back. "These claw marks are what happened when it found me again. Apparently it had followed me the entire three days I was out there and if it wasn't for the search party scaring it off it would've killed me."

"Jesus," Stiles breathes. 

Malia offers up a wry smile, pulling her shirt back down, . "Needless to say I had a hard time adjusting when I finally went back to school. I was angry all the time, picked fights, scared my classmates."

"Eventually it was suggested that I go to therapy which is where I first met Isaac. I'd seen him around, heard he was weird about touch, but I'd never talked to him before. I asked him why he was there and he told me he broke some kid's nose because he touched him. And - "

" _Wait_ , was that kid Jackson Whittmore by any chance?" Stiles asks.

"It was," Malia confirms. 

Stiles laughs incredulously.

Malia tilts her head. "What’s so funny?" 

"Jackson used to bully me and Scott growing up, especially in high school," Stiles explains. "We always wanted to meet the kid that finally gave him what he deserved."

"Well, now you have," Malia says with an amused smile. 

Stiles grabs her hands. "Sorry, go on. "

"Uh, so, anyway, after that day we were both put into special ED because they thought it was best if we kept away from the other kids until our issues weren't so... _explosive_. We always worked together, played together, and we eventually became best friends."

"And then Isaac told me about his past, and I told him about mine and we became inseparable. Then one day he comes to school and he's wearing a scarf, in _April_. I remember teasing him about it and trying to steal it, and him getting really angry and refusing to talk to me afterwards. The next day, he wore the scarf again, but I just apologized for being a jerk and things went back to normal. But then he comes in a week later wearing a scarf and a long sleeved shirt."

She can tell by the look on Stiles face that he's realized what she's hinting at. 

"At recess, I tripped and made the mistake of grabbing onto his arm. Instead of exploding on me like I expected, he flinched away with a cry of pain. I managed to get him to admit to me what his foster parents were doing, but he begged me not to tell anyone. "

"And that's when you started asking your dad to adopt him?" Stiles guesses. 

Malia nods.

"So when you said you didn't want to lose him..."

"I didn't mean to the foster care system," Malia confirms. 

Stiles squeezes her hands. "You're amazing, you know that right?"

Malia feels her face heat up. She looks down at their hands, clears her throat. "So, uh, skipping ahead to when I was thirteen," she says. "I started having night terrors about the coyote and the car accident so my therapist suggested I go to Eichen House. It was okay at first, especially when Isaac joined me."

"Why was Isaac there?" Stiles questions.

"He went to see his biological father in prison, and, well, apparently he couldn't resist getting one more hit on Isaac. It set Isaac back a lot with his issues, and it was suggested that he went to Eichen," Malia explains. 

Stiles nods. "So what happened at Eichen?"

"Nothing the first few times we were there, but when we hit fifteen we were moved to Dr. Valeck's ward, and that's when it became Echo House to us," Malia tells him. She starts fidgeting involuntarily. "They kept me drugged up so I don't know most of what I remember is real and what was drug induced, but the only thing that I  _can_  remember clearly are the screams of the poor bastards Valeck picked to experiment on. Isaac's screams."

Stiles gives her hands a firm squeeze that she returns. 

"If it wasn't for that reporter exposing Valeck who knows what would have happened to us," Malia says. "Our dad, he blamed himself for not noticing something was wrong during the few visits he managed to make. He almost started drinking again. Instead, he just announced one morning that we were moving to Maine because Beacon Hills was cursed and we needed to get as far away as possible."

"Maybe he had a point. I mean, after all that, why the hell would you decide to come back?" Stiles asks.

"Kylie and my mother are buried here," Malia answers. "So is everything that ever hurt us. We just wanted some closure so the next time we leave Beacon Hills, it won't feel like we're running away, but towards something."

Stiles lifts her hand and kisses it, but doesn't say anything. She convinces herself that he's just processing, but after a minute of him being uncharacteristically quiet, she can't keep herself from asking, "So...?" 

"So...?" Stiles repeats

"Did I scare you off?" She asks.

"Were you trying to?" He questions. 

Malia shakes her head. "No, but... Now you now how broken I really am. I mean I still have anger issues, I still have nightmares about my dead sister and the only way I can deal with it is by sleeping with a doll that's falling apart. And I didn't manage to slip it in, but sometimes I have panic attacks when I drive. I'm a mess! I wouldn't blame you if you did run away screaming."

Stiles let's go of her hands and she doesn't know what she expects, but it certainly isn't for him to wrap his arms around her and hug her tight. "I'm not going anywhere. I love you, Malia, all of you, including the parts you don't like."

Malia feels tears spring to her eyes. "I love you too," she says quietly, hugging him back. 

He kisses the top of her head and she can't hold back her tears anymore, can't tell if they're from happiness or pure relief, only that she can't stop until there's nothing left. 

Stiles never lets her go. 

* * *

 

"I told him," Malia says. 

Isaac looks up at her from where his head is resting on her lap. "All of it?"

"All of it," she confirms.

"And?"

"He said he’s not going anywhere, and that he... loves me."

Isaac smiles. "Guess we're both likable after all," he jokes. 

Malia chuckles. "Guess so."

"Still stuck with each other?"

"Still stuck with each other," she confirms.

 

* * *

 

Malia wakes up to the sound of drumming and groans. Instead of rushing to yell at Stiles, she listens carefully to discern what song he's playing, but she doesn't recognize the beat. She reaches for her phone, sees it's 3 AM, and sighs. 

She forces herself to get up and makes her way into Stiles' apartment. She finds him in his room, but he's not alone. 

"Oh, hey!" Scott greets from where he sits on the bed, surrounded by music sheets and his guitar. 

Malia offers him a sleepy smile. 

Stiles stops playing and turns to look at her apologetically. "Sorry, we tried not using the drums as long as we could."

Malia walks over to him, and wraps her arms around his neck, leaning heavily against him. "You guys writing something new?"

"Yeah, that _sap_ over there wants to write a song for Isaac,"  Stiles tells her, gesturing to Scott with his drumsticks. 

Malia turns briefly to look at Scott, and he ducks his head in embarrassment. She chuckles. 

"Well, then I guess it's okay that you woke me up," Malia says.

She goes to sit on the bed with Scott, and lets her read the lyrics he wrote. They're a little cheesy, but genuine, and she knows they'll make Isaac melt. 

She lays on the bed and let's them get back to writing. It's pretty entertaining watching them argue and nitpick, and eventually come back together for over an hour before Scott calls it a night. 

"Hey, Scott?" Malia asks as he's on his way out.

Scott pauses in the doorway. "Yeah?"

"Just know, you will have to ask me _and_ my Dad for his hand in marriage," She says. 

Scott turns red. "I, uh, I'll keep that in mind."

She smiles and he walks off. 

Stiles chuckles. "God I want to be there when he asks."

Malia raises her brow at him. " _When_ , huh?"

"Have you seen them? It's definitely when not if," Stiles says. 

"Fair enough," Malia says, sliding off the bed and walking over to him. "So, do _I_ get a song too?"

"Not yet," Stiles tells her, "but you will."

"As long as you're not the one who sings it," She teases. 

He pouts. "What's wrong with my singing?"

"You sound like a dying cat," She answers, softening the blow with a kiss to his cheek.

He huffs. " _Fine_ , I'll have Scott sing it to you. Or maybe ask Lydia to scream it."

Malia smiles and grabs his hands, tugging until he gets to his feet. 

"Let me change first," He says when he realizes she's leading him to the bed.

"Don't worry about it," Malia tells him. "You won't be needing any clothes."

 Stiles grins, looking very, very pleased about this turn of events

 

* * *

 

"Stiles?"

"Yeah?" He asks, slightly out of breath.

"You made it to one million and one," Malia tells him.

Stiles chuckles and pulls her into a kiss. 

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you thought of this! I had a lot of fun writing it!
> 
>  


End file.
